


The day he will never forget

by Star_less



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Umm well it's depressing, it's a bit gory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_less/pseuds/Star_less
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because the day you do something this drastic is the day burned in your memory forever. </p><p>Kinda gory, kinda depressing fanfic..</p>
            </blockquote>





	The day he will never forget

**Author's Note:**

> YAY -celebrate. A non-omorashi One Direction fanfic ;3

I can remember it all.  
I can remember the crash. I can remember his screams. I can remember the tears and the crunch of bones; and I can most definitely remember the sobs, the relentless, never ending sobs that wracked my body all over.  
I can remember the day my whole world fell apart.

~*~*~  
We were arguing; I can't remember what it was about, but it was most likely something stupid. We were in a car too  that didn't help matters, to be honest.  
Harry Styles and I  me, Louis Tomlinson, were both inseparable. We were a team, stuck through thick and thin, stayed by each-other's side; me and him had a great relationship.  
 _Why the fuck did I ruin it?!_  
No, I've got to stay calm. I can't go off on a rage yet.  
Harry did that.  
Just that, went off on a rage, a burning rage that wouldn't stop. Then, that moment, I knew it.

~*~*~  
Harry Styles always seemed troubled; behind the scenes, behind the songs and the stardom and the touring, he had his insecurities and problems and.. no, now that I think about it, Harry _was_ troubled.  
He was like the baby of the group, at 18 years old, he was the youngest of One Direction. With his shining green eyes and perfectly flouncey brown curls, he was perfection to the fans, perfection to me.  
Maybe that was why he got hated.  
Harry Styles also, got lots of hate. He seemed to get the most hate out of us all, and he seemed to take it the hardest too. In the early days; the days of the X Factor, he took the hate hard.. but not like he does now.  
Maybe I shouldn't have pushed him over the edge.

~*~*~  
We were arguing, in the car. I can only remember his maniacal driving and me in the back seat, the seat-belt drilling into me.  
And then me.  
Shouting.  
I used all of his insecurities against him; I knew how hard they hurt him, I knew they would hurt. That was what I wanted then. To hurt him, Harry. The baby. My baby.  
Not knowing how it would hurt me, either.

I pushed Harry Styles over the edge that day, and boy did I fucking know it.  
He spiralled out of control; one little wayward insult had done that. He went insane.. little Harry Styles, the one that seemed as if butter wouldn't melt, went utterly insane, hell-bent on doing damage to.. something.  
He growled and if I could see him at that moment, fire would most likely be burning in his eyes.  
The car.  
The tyres were squealing; he was going faster than he ever had before. I don't know why he did it; what he was thinking.. back then I just thought he wanted me to say sorry.  
I can remember that too, begging him to stop. It was as if his rage; his pure anger, had blocked out my screaming, yelling, pleading, blocked it all away, and his hellish mood didn't go away until the last minute.  
And much too late.

He tried to stop.  
He tried to stop the car, but it was too late.  
"Bloody hell!" I can remember saying, not thinking of what else to say. "Harry!"  
The car swerved, obviously having a mind of its own. Harry didn't talk back to me, why, I never knew. Maybe it was the fact that I'd pissed him off, maybe it was the fact that he just.. couldn't say anything.  
Nothing would sum up the raw fear we were both feeling  or at least what _I_ was feeling. The car helplessly swerved and tipped upside down. Immediately the pressure made the car splinter and the roof cave through.  
I heard the snap; the clean, perfect snap, as if you were snapping a pencil, and cringed. Bones snapping, or the car snapping, I didn't know. My own body was flushed with searing, white pain, but I couldn't care less. My energy was draining, but who cared about that? I only cared about one thing, one perfect thing.  
My lover.. my band-mate.. my world.  
"Harry?"  
No reply.  
"Harry? Come on. Talk to me Stylesy.." I slurred softly, energy pouring out of me at a million miles per second.  
I can remember panicking at first, getting no reply from Harry sent a million thoughts running through my head. Blindly I reached out and managed to unbuckle my seatbelt. It slid up like a snake and I pushed myself forward, biting hard at my lip and wincing at the pain twisting through me, trying my hardest to stay quiet. I got through to the front and pushed my way around the mess of the car. Harry was there, laying flat out. His eyes were closed and his face was grey. Crimson blood was trailing all over him..  
My perfect little Harry just looked.. terrible.

I stared at him in silence, using all of my strength to hold myself up. His curls were matted with blood and.. oh, he just looked terrible; as if blood was pouring out of every available crevice on his face.  
I can remember starting to sob too, blood and tears pouring helplessly down my wrecked cheeks.  
"Boo.. B- bear.." Harry whimpered pitifully at me, eyes small and expression lost. I blinked hard; he could see the mess of my face and my tears, it was not a good thing for him to see.  
"I- I'm here.." I choked out with the last of my energy.  
I never got to hear if Harry talked back to me.  
I fell into a horrible, haunting sleep.  
~*~*~  
I remember waking up, after sleeping for.. almost forever, it seemed. Light was shining through onto my eyes. The loud, repetitive beeping of some random machine next to me, roused me from slumber. _Where was I?_  
Oh. Yeah. Hospital.  
The first thing I asked for..?  
I had no tubes on my face; It looked as if I'd got off as the lucky one. Apart from bandages decorating my wrists, knees and head.. Yeah, I got out of that wreck pretty lucky.  
So that only left.. what about Hazza?!  
A nurse was near me, to check the bandages and change them. I nudged her.  
"Where's Harry?" I remember asking, panic flooding me all over. That horrible image of Harry, back in that wreck; he looked dead even back then.. oh god. Please let him be okay.  
"Harry Styles?" She asks. I search her face all over for a hint of sadness. "He's in critical condition." She admits quietly, after several minutes of thought.  
I can't remember what I said to her, but I didn't cry. I think I had cried too much to cry further. I assume I just stayed pretty silent.  
 _Critical condition. That meant he could get better.  
He would, wouldn't he?_

They discharged me from the hospital a few days later. As of then I knew nothing about Harry or what his condition was.  
I'd gotten home safely, but.. I didn't feel like.. me any more. Gone was the sassy Louis Tomlinson, hidden away in the shadows.. and here was the real Louis. The one that I thought was gone forever, buried under the fame and stardom.

The call.  
Oh, fuck, the call.  
And the words.

_Mr Tomlinson? Your friend, Harry Styles. He passed away this morning. I'm so sorry._

I don't know what I felt worse about. The fact that Harry, my world, had passed away, the fact that I had not been there when he passed away, or the fact that I had actually killed him. My band-mate, brother, best friend, lover..

Of course I had killed him. It was my fault for hurling stupid insults at him, that day in the car. I'd made him get angry and I'd made him crash the car.  
I'd killed Harry Styles.

How could I live with that?

Simple answer. I couldn't.


End file.
